


The Poison Chosen For You, By You

by SweetScone



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood, Bloodplay, Bondage, CYOA, Cannibalism, Character Death, Choose Your Own Adventure, Double Penetration, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Real Nasty Things, Some Form of Necrophilia, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7905238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetScone/pseuds/SweetScone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The collar around your neck is a constant remainder of your fate, just as are the scars on your skin.  Is there still some kind of respite to find in such a life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Fate: A Matter Of Finesse

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry in advance for those who might be disappointed at this new story, or even for those with suddenly newfound disgust for me. I never expected to fall in love for this game -I myself felt dirty at first, but alas I cannot deny the craze! 
> 
> To remain in the spirit of the game, I decided to go for a short Choose Your Own Adventure. Really though, the choices are only an excuse to try out different kinks or positions, so not much changes along the way. It's pretty much straight forward.
> 
> HEAVY WARNING: sensitive hearts refrain. While this story is certainly not as gory as the game in certain aspects, it still contains rape, blood and torture. Proceed at your own risk.
> 
> For those who know what to expect: enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How this works: As you read this chapter, you'll be prompted with simple choices. I have linked the corresponding chapters to them, so if you click on it, you should be directed to the next events in accordance to your choice (please do tell me if it does not work or if it is all messed up, as it it my first time trying such a thing).
> 
> Also, the first option in each choice is always an indication to continue reading further down. 
> 
> I hope I'woven this correctly! Otherwise, give me tips to make this better!

"Do you think you'll be able to bear a minute amount of control now, pet?"

**[Nod]**

**[[Shake your head]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7905238/chapters/18066901) **

**[[…]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7905238/chapters/18062569) **

You shook slightly from the hoarseness in his voice, nodding eagerly. The collar hung and swayed heavily around your neck. Far memories of your incapacity at making decisions overwhelmed your mind: the simple fact that your foot would forever exhibit the mark was proof enough that uncooperative attitude could be deadly. You bit your lip as fear coiled back at the end of your nape. That room -you wished to never see it again.

The man beneath you flashed you a smile, one of his many unfaltering ones, the kind that showed off the disturbingly immaculate whiteness of his teeth.

"Then get to work, liebling."

You never ignored his command. Helping yourself with your hands, you placed your flat palms on his naked chest, lifting yourself over his lap as you tucked your weak foot away from his weight. The muscles of his pectorals danced and twitched delicately under the fine duvet of his chest. You inhaled softly and deeply, lowering yourself onto the man's stiff and erect cock. You willed your sore muscles to relax: he was so large, usually always forcing his way into your abused cunt. Yet your body seemed to betray you each time. Despite the roughness of his treatment, your pulse would quicken and beat in your ears, and your body thrum with warmth, your core coating his shaft generously to ease his way in.

This time, however, while completely different and yet not at all, you had to guide yourself over him. While anguish thrived in your chest at the thought of displeasing him, the whole set up permitted you to seek your own comfort -something you hadn't felt in ages.

You finally engulfed his whole length, sinking on him until your thighs cradled his lap. His hands shot to your hips, grasping the flesh red as he groaned lowly. A shuddered breath left your lips as you adjusted to his generous girth, your arms taut on his midriff. The man beneath made no move to force you to further ride his cock –everything about this experience was foreign, so unlike all he encompassed. Unease twisted your guts as your sore lower lips stretched over him. You waited for no further instruction to slowly start rising off his lap, legs quivering and mouth slightly parted in a mix of surprise and pleasure as you felt his length glide easily out of your already lubricated hole.

You dared not make a sound at this point: the slightest noise might set him off on one of his crazed rampage, and he would probably smother you under his body until he had his fill of your cunt. You lowered yourself back down with more assurance, shamefully delighting in the way the soft ridges of his cock rubbed against your insides.

“Enjoying yourself, Katchzen..?”

 His eyes had turned to smoldering slits, his mouth a coy smile under the reddening hue of his aroused features. A simple nod, wide, watered eyes as you glanced to him.

“Then why don’t you purr for me?”

His hand suddenly tugged at the chain attached to the collar around your neck and you spluttered and lurched forward, air expelled of your lungs. You found yourself inches from his face, your chest pressing against his own. Tears streaked down your cheeks as your gaze locked with his, and you allowed yourself to breathe more heavily, both for your own need and his amusement. Agonizing pleasure jabbed at your cervix as your hips continued to rock down and up on his sex. You could hardly hold his demanding leer: you let moans slip passed your lips as you watched his eyes light up childishly and his grin stretch.

“Good, good…”

As his hand came to pet your hair –so maddeningly gently- you flinched before relaxing into the touch. There was something so tender to his actions compared to everything he’d once done to you; your body leaned into his touch involuntarily and you whimpered his name –Strade, you’d uttered plaintively- as you forced yourself in an upwards position. His fingers rewarded you by gliding over the sensitive skin of your breasts before settling back on your hips. You set a mellow but hard pace, impaling yourself down on him loudly as the wet skin of your cunt would wet him gradually. Strade’s breathing grew heavy and hard, his eyelids hefty with desire as they curtained down his eyes.

You hated him –but no more than you hated yourself. You would often find yourself wondering if allowing him to kill you back then would have been preferable to what you endured every day. Yet when the menace of any pointed object reared its head, you would cower and plead just how he liked it, until his lust would take over his murderous intents and he would fuck you silly. Nor willpower nor hope had time to root itself in your brain: Strade would always make sure he broke you just a little further when the seeds grew. Maybe it was why, in this very moment, you found yourself grinding your hips faster and harder on him, seeking your pleasure on his own erotic face, cries and strips of his name leaving your mouth in moans. If this were the only respite life would allow you, you’d take it.

As much as you wanted to reach your peek –and his as soon as possible- in this position, it seemed, however, that your body would not allow it. Food and water were always given twice and even thrice daily –but always just enough to keep you alive, and never enough to give you strength. Your legs and arms were already burning from the effort of riding his cock, not to mention from the multiple and barely scarred wounds on your thighs. Your rhythm faltered without you wanting it.

“Poor thing. Are you already tired? Do you want me to take over?”

**[Agree]**

**[[Continue to ride him]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7905238/chapters/18068497) **

**[[...]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7905238/chapters/18071257) **

Fear rendered your muscles taut, more than they already were. You were afraid of what sort of trouble you would end up in now, yet your legs could not bear more of your weight. You hung your head dejectedly.

“…es…”

His eyes glinted maliciously as his tongue swiped over his Cheshire teeth, and his hands kneaded the flesh of your hips painfully.

“Hmm..? What was that..?”

You swallowed once, then twice.

“..Y-Yes, please.”

Your blood drummed wildly under your skin as Strade groaned huskily at your pleading tone. It took no more than that for you to be flipped over and forced onto your knees, hips wide and high, oozing cunt exposed to Strade’s predatory eyes. Your back arched uncomfortably when his hand shot to the chain lingering beside you, the length of it twisting around his wrist for leverage, head pulled back in an effort to breathe evenly. The collar was already so tight around your neck and yet when Strade reinserted himself with one deep, swift motion, it seemed to constrict even further despite its metal husk. Your throaty gasps echoed throughout the room while he fucked you in earnest, hips pistoning forward as he dragged you down on his shaft.

You wanted with all of your being to remain strong –but the tears made their way to your eyes, and you whimpered under his touch. _Disgusting_ –it was the only word your hazy mind could provide to describe your culminating arousal when the tip of Strade’s dick glided and hit that soft spot inside you. No doubt he must have felt you falter, the slightest clench of your walls around him hinting to your pleasure, for his animalistic panting ceased temporarily.

“Ahhh… So sensitive.”

The chain was tugged harder, and your upper body lifted up the ground until Strade’s hands were at your neck and chest to hold you up. His wild thrusting and guttural groans resumed as you choked from the sudden force, your cunt hugging him desperately in reflex. His hips snapped loudly against your bare bottom, the flesh ceaselessly bouncing up and down. Air barely got to the bottom of your lungs; you wheezed and whimpered, all of your available breath forced out of your burning trachea as he pummeled you mercilessly. The hand on your chest dug in your skin, imprinting crimson crescent marks into the sensitive mound. Yet the coursing pain seemed numb in the back of your mind: the lack of air rendered you dizzy and lightheaded, and still…

When Strade’s hand relinquished your breast to dip down the curvaceous length of your hip, your arousal was made even more achingly obvious as the rough pads of his fingers cradled the reddened bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. Your whole body went rigid from the sudden spark of pleasure, and you leaned back on his chest involuntarily. Strade growled appreciatively, jerking at the chain to steer your head sideways: there, as your hair swept off the expanse of your flushed neck, he lowered his head swiftly, as if a vulture diving down to his prey. His teeth sank in the thin skin, breaking off the first layers easily. At the coppery taste of your oozing blood he moaned and grunted heavily, his hold faltering so slightly on the chain.

The sudden rush of air in your lungs, although an immense relief, was immediately vacuumed out of you as you shrieked under the unwavering hook of his teeth –something you regretted immediately. Your scream only spurred him on further, sending him spiraling into the abyssal depths of lust.

“Ahhh… Ahh… Verdammt…”

You were flung to the hard wooden floor, his hand pressed onto the side of your face while he pounded you flat onto the surface. Your knees scraped harshly on the ground, hips jutting uncomfortably against the tiles, and yet his other hand remained just there to assault your clit. How wretched, despicable, abject –the pleasure welling inside you tipped you ever closer to orgasm and yet you could not find the strength within yourself to repel the incoming waves of bliss, be it delivered by the hand of your captor. The furious motions of his fingers on your clit were nearly painful, and still, combined with the blissfully agonizing grip on your neck, the blood would rush to your inner thighs deliciously. Your cunt began spasming around Strade’s dick, something that did not go by unnoticed.

Immediately his hips seemed to stutter, his rhythm faltering under the leash of sizzling pleasure pulling at his wilted sanity. A single push –hard, but perfectly placed- and you came undone upon his cock, milking him for all he was worth. He shuddered and held your throat tighter, your peak prolonged to a maddening length as he kept thrusting into you until he was convinced he had emptied his seed into your warmth.

His arms went stiff on either side of your head, palms flat on the floor as he pushed himself fully inside of you one last time before retreating. You dared not move yet, feeling fluids leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. You finally forced yourself up on your knees when you heard shuffling, then the whirring sound of a zipper. The chain around your neck suddenly fell loose to the floor, unhooked from your collar. Your neck strained in relief.

A pat on your head had you flinch.

“Hey. How nice you obeyed today. I think I’ll be nice too…”

You hugged your arms –the word never forebode well from his mouth. So your fear seemed to be founded when his hand tangled in your hair and pushed your face again to the floor, your teeth biting down on your lower lip accidentally as it made contact. Salty and coppery –you realised he had pushed your face right where the mix of your fluids had spotted the floor, and the blood dripping from your buccal wound swirled within the tangy paste. You knew what he wanted, and so you forced yourself to lick the floor clean, putting on a show as he liked it.

“Bahaha!”

His eyes squinted with glee over his elated grin –much like an unknowing child crushing a bug for the first time. He leaned down until his fingers cupped your chin, brushing his thumb beneath your lip where blood and fluids smeared your skin.

“Now, be good, pet.”

His thick eyebrows descended upon his lidded eyes as he put the soiled digit into his own mouth.

He left the room, not bothering to lock the door. Where could you go with that thing around your neck, anyway? Concluding the debate shortly, you remained in the room, making for the slim mattress given to your disposition.

You’d still be there when he would come back.


	2. Your Mistake: Not Answering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outcome if you chose not to give him an answer when he offered you control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood, torture, mental breakdown, painful sex, among others atrocities.

"Do you think you'll be able to bear a minute amount of control now, pet?"

His voice was hoarse and sultry, full of underlying promises. You tried to shut him out: dark, dark places bloomed behind your eyes, and you dove within –but his fingers were digging in your hips, clawing and drawing blood. Despite it, you didn’t scream, you didn’t whimper; you opted for the lifeless doll act, knowing your voiced discomfort would only gratify him. Chin tucked toward your chest, metal collar digging in your jaw, you fixed a spot of rotten wood just beside his head, and did your best to ignore the hard and scalding erection pressing up on your lower lips.

“Always so indecisive. Guess I’ll have to choose for you, huh?”

You made the mistake to cross his gaze: the eyes of the monster were deceivingly sympathetic. Why was he the one looking like a stray puppy under the guise of his wide amber irises and brown locks?

You were suddenly pushed off of him as he got up, still very much naked and aroused, his shaft springing up and down as he fumbled around. Clicking and scraping filled the room before you were suddenly brought up to your feet by his hands tugging harshly at the chain attached to the metallic contraption around your neck. You forced yourself up on wobbly legs despite your envy to lay there and let him choke you. The length of the chain was fastened around a hook. You didn’t even fighting back when leather straps and cold steel rings were bound tightly to your limbs. You knew what would be coming. Dark and darker –the reality before you only static beneath black curtains. Vertigo weighed heavily on your chest as you were suddenly lifted off the floor. You told yourself that maybe you’ve finally perfected your illusion –that you were floating in the empty pit your mind had built for your last thread of sanity. But it was only Strade working the straps and the pulleys.

Your head hung between your shoulders, the harness around your upper and lower body working you in a makeshift fetus position, back facing the floor. You took respite in the fact that blood was already draining from your limbs, and that you won’t be able to feel much from there. A cart rolled up to your side, just far enough that you can’t see what horrors it might display. Strade hummed happily as he played around with his tools, really, just like a kid deciding which toy he would play with. He finally reached up beside you, shadowed eyes under his thick brows.

“Now, since you still can’t seem to handle the pressure of choice, I’ll have none but to teach you.”

His smile then was meant to be conniving, but you knew how far from complicity it strayed. He lifted two small metal tongs linked to rubber threads. No-

The pliers were promptly applied to your exposed nipples, and despite trying to remain in your little made up cocoon, you cursed inwardly at the cold room. No no no no –it was crumbling. Fear reared itself on your face, your breathing hastening as you shook in your binds.

Strade smile sadistically, enjoyment obvious on his face.

“Now, now. You had your opportunity. Now, we’ll be working on cooperation, if we want this relationship to work.”

The faint flick of a switch, the buzzing of coursing electricity –then hot, white pain in your chest, everywhere, the distinct smell of burnt flesh. Your whole body trembled as spasms rocked you over the floor, back arched as your glutes squeezed you up under the shocks. It hurt and burned, yet not sufficiently to kill you, rather just enough to make you scream –something your last once of willpower managed to prevent. When the electric jolts subsided, Strade was sporting a satisfied smile.

“Well, it doesn’t matter; we’ll try something else.”

You drew blood from your inner lip as he wrenched the tongs in one motion from your breasts. Your nipples were still and red, chaffed skin peeling off the sides where the flesh had been charred. Still you did not cry.

“Conventional methods always did work better with you.”

The pointed edge of a knife flashed before you – _Ah_. And it always was _his_ favorite. You let your head lull to the side, leaning against your arm. Bloodied saliva dribbled down your chin and onto your chest, and the blade of the knife came to scoop it up, just barely grazing your skin. You watched with a suppressed shiver as Strade brought it back to his own mouth, tongue swiping to collect the fluids lasciviously.

“Ahhhh~ Köstlich…”

His expert hand wasted no time in drawing more blood, cutting reddening lines of derelict pain upon the canvas of your skin. Never too deep to allow you to bleed out, he traced your curves with the jagged tip of the blade, until he reached the supple flesh of your inner thigh. It had been weeks since he had soiled you there, deliberately allowing the skin to heal so he could revel in marking the new one. A shaky breath left his lips as he looked over to you before plunging the knife deep. An unvoiced scream rasped your throat as he began twisting the blade in the leaking wound.

The weapon retreated from your flesh and you allowed yourself a deep breath –just before Strade’s mouth settled over the cut and lapped at it, digging noisily in with his insistent tongue. At that moment you could no longer bear the pain, and your head lolled back as you cried your infinite agony, to which Strade’s muscle only grew bolder, cleaning off the blood trailing along your thigh. It smeared its mouth and prickling fuzz, complementing the deep shade of red that overtook his heated skin.

When the dreaded knife once again filled your vision you struggled and whimpered, all evidence of your constructed world vanished to the wind. His lips drew back over his wolfish teeth, and suddenly the glinting hem of the blade disappeared, replaced by its dark rubbery hilt. He traced the rounded extremity of it along your body, pressing it painfully on your scarred nipple before halting in-between your legs. It circled your sex like a famished animal as Strade’s hand came to cup your asscheek to hold you in place.

You began breathing harder –you knew if you held your breath the procedure would only be more painful. Yet, as he smeared the handle in the fresh blood from your wound, your muscles couldn’t help but tense considerably.

“Don’t worry; we’ll take care of that later…”

The hilt of his knife pushed your lips apart harshly, breaching your entrance as it nestled deep into your cunt. The blood did nothing to ease its progress in your dry womanhood, and you almost felt as if the burn there was worse than the one you had felt on your nipples. You attempted to twist in your bindings to ease the discomfort, but Strade’s hand was still grappling you tight.

“Shh, shhh…”, was all he said before beginning to pump the handle within you, ridges rubbing awkwardly at your walls. The object was foreign within your flesh and yet, as he began twisting it in and out, your fluids coated it generously, the last barrier your body could put up to somewhat numb the pain.

From your hung-up position, more blood pooled to your lap, parting over the hill of your sex to trickle beside your outer labia. You could only breathe from relief shortly as the knife was wrenched from you before noticing the crazed look on Strade’s features.

“Ich kann nicht widerstehen…”

You needed not understand: his stiff shaft poked at your bloodied entrance, the tip plunging and retreating repeatedly to dab in your blood. His whole length was painted crimson red as he finally hilted within you, impaling you hard on his erection. His arm wound up around your bound legs, hugging them close to his chest as he began snapping his hips forward. You didn’t notice his free hand still held the knife. Not until the handle was poking at your rear entrance.

“No!”, you couldn’t bite back your protest –he had yet to touch you there, and you had vainly hope he would never resort to it. You realised how deep in trouble you had flung yourself in when his eyes grew wide with innocent cruelty. You had even pushed yourself into his thrust as you had attempted to wiggle away from the knife.

The motions of his hips ceased momentarily while his second hand reached beneath you to spread your cheeks as well as your rear entrance –and then the hilt of the knife tore right through you. And he laughed that stupid laugh as he began pounding you from both sides, in and out with his cock, in and out with the knife. You gasped and cried simultaneously, giving in to your despair.

You convinced yourself that he’d come and leave you there, and that would be it. Just another day. But the hand holding your thigh pressed onto your sex, Strade’s thumb pressing painfully hard on your clit. Pressing and pushing, circling and flicking relentlessly. You forcibly came around his cock as he grunted wildly, your orgasm peeling you raw and unsatisfyingly, much unlike the one that shook Strade moments later. His sperm filled you up quickly, immediately trickling down as his limping shaft left your sex. If you weren’t so miserable, you would have laughed at the lighthearted pink color the mix of your fluids had took.

You crashed to the floor suddenly. Blood flew back to your deprived limbs, prickling like thorns. Dark, abyssal planes you summoned to drown out the aftermath of your abuse. Concentrating, trying to rebuild your blasted walls as Strade left the room, leaving you naked and dirty.

But his steps echoed back into the room, your eyes lifting to inquire his reason. Thread and needle –and a bottle of alcohol- in his hands. He’d stich you up again, pamper you as if nothing of it had been his fault, nursing you back to health just so he could toy with you again.

And then everything would start over again.

Putrid, stifling darkness.

As the needle pierced the flesh at the side of your wound, you didn’t scream.


	3. Fatal Error: Acting Snarky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how things unfold if you chose to completely reject his kind offer of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: all the same -rape, blood, torture, some sliiiiight implied cannibalism.

"Do you think you'll be able to bear a minute amount of control now, pet?"

You gritted your teeth until you felt them squeak against one another. Control was the last thing he would ever allow you to have, even in this position. The word was only a vain hope in his mouth to coax you into doing his biding, the hung carrot before the mule laden with weight. That cursed thing around your neck was more than enough proof. Deception was only one of his several tools to break you, a joy you wouldn’t allow yourself to give him.

“Just do what you have to”, your voice was a low whisper, yet seethed with anger.

“Hmm, not feeling like it, huh?” his face turned to one of a child who’d just been scolded.

You fumed within, only allowing yourself to glare with squinted eyes at him, something he promptly ignored.

“That’s alright, those kinds of days happen to the best of us. Just let me get ya in the mood.”

At his words he immediately gripped your hips to insert himself raw into your open core. He gave a couple thrusts, deep and savage, digging his nails in your flesh.

“Now, are you enjoying yourself?”

“...Just fuck yourself.”

He suddenly pushed you off from his lap, and you landed on your bottom, too dazed to even react. Strade’s hand shooting to the chain attached to your neck ornament.  He didn’t even bother zipping his pants back up as he left the room and dragged you behind him, your skin grazing painfully against the floor as you attempted to get up. Your gaze crossed Ren’s as you switched rooms, his eyes wet and sympathetic and his ears droopy as he knew just what awaited you. You gulped as you recognise just where Strade was leading you. That ominous place where he kept all his toys –the basement. The familiar metallic smell hit you fully as he opened the door to your personal hell. You almost slipped once or twice in the stairs as he kept his furious pace up, but made it safe at the bottom. That, you knew, would be arranged soon.

Strade tugged roughly at the chain and flung you farther in the room as he reached for a metal contraption hanging from the ceiling. Your relief was faint as he handcuffed you and retrieved a large, curvy and glinting hook, its weight causing it to sway gently in the air. The chain of the handcuffs slid on its hollow, pulling on your wrists severely –thankfully the hook rested low enough to allow you to kneel on the concrete floor. Your thanks were quickly swallowed, however, when you noticed your captor coming back to you with a gag: that he placed tightly against your mouth and looped it around your head, his brute force immediately ripping your mouth open. Its shaped allowed you to breathed, teeth cradled around a metallic ring. The cold, salty taste of it spread uncomfortably in your mouth.

Strade looked down to you with a proud smile, “There! You look much better down there. Now…”

His shadow loomed over you, your face level with his crotch. It took only seconds before his pants and underwear pooled around his feet, his generous cock bouncing onto your face. He smelled musky, a tad too strong for your flaring nostrils. Yet he seemed to enjoy your reaction as he dragged his tip everywhere around your face –save for your mouth-, smearing your cheeks with sticky precum. When finally he thrusted into your open mouth, it was in a swift, full motion, his whole length encased in your mouth. You choked lightly around him, your throat contracting around his massive girth. Even the gag ring seemed to be a tight fit for him, its embrace on him pulling at his sensitive skin while he fucked your mouth raw. You didn’t doubt it only heightened his fun. You willed yourself to relax your muscles, allowing your tongue to relax under his shaft –your only respite was being able to bite down full force on the gag with your teeth. Weirdly enough, you reveled in the fact that he began thrusting in sloppily, grunting loudly as he reached his peak. He wrenched himself out of your mouth, palming himself to completion as he aimed at your face. The warmth hit you over your closed eyes, dribbling down your cheeks and into your still open mouth, some of it falling on your chest.

“Ahhh –ahhh~ Ein echtes kunstwerk. And I know just how to make it better.”

You watched him reaching for a pulley, and then suddenly you were on the balls of your feet, arms yanked back painfully over your head. Strade circled you in a predatory manner before grasping the chain and steering it backwards, your breath knocked out of you as your back collided with a work bench. You were hoisted up on it, arms still flung back. Fear and a cold sweat spread down your back as your head came to rest over the jagged edge of a saw blade – _correction,_ you told yourself, _saw bench_. Strade pressed himself between your naked legs –you couldn’t believe the guy was still hard and yet, couldn’t feel surprised at all considering his disposition.

He was quick to enter you, your cunt engulfing him despite the burn rasping at your walls. Immediately, the pace he set was rough and merciless, your frame bouncing in the binds around your wrists, chin tucked to your chest as you forced yourself not to fall back on the saw blade. You saw him fumbling beside you for something, an object he acquired quickly. It was… A hot glue gun. You were suddenly extremely aware of the gag still breaching your lips apart. The glue stick was long and thick, sure to trickle down with ease. His rhythm never faltered as he smiled down at you with a reddened complexion, pushing the trigger of the gun. The first drop was aimed at your chest –just a small drop to experiment. You bit into the gag at the scalding heat spreading between your two breasts. Strade appeared to find the results awfully satisfying, as he empressed himself to pour more over your upper body: the hot substance dribbled on your breast, leaving layers of caked glue and sperm. Your skin bubbled and flushed, your mouth streaming whimpers and cries to the delight of Strade’s ears.

The stick was however quickly draining, and he used the last of the remaining drops on your face. The blistering tip of the gun was brought to the corner of your mouth, no hesitation apparent in his motions as Strade pressed the remnants of the searing glue down your throat. You choked and shrieked in pain, your tongue feeling like it was bursting under a thousand fires. You swallowed out of reflex, the liquid glue spiraling in your oesophagus as it burned a path of fiery agony.

Strade’s eyes gleamed with awe at your reaction and your dark red tongue, his cock pulsating within you as lust shadowed his features. His hands slammed on either side of your head, his face the only object in your field of vision. You shut clenched your eyes tight, tears threatening to spill at their corners. But as a wild whirring sound boomed beneath your head you forced them open –the madman had turned the saw bench on. Panic fluttered in your chest as you did your best to lift your chest up, neck straining between your locked shoulders.

“BAHahaha!” He laughed whole-heartedly, head thrown back in a mix of enjoyment and carnal pleasure, “Are you enjoying yourself, _now?_ ” and he laughed again.

Your abdominals hurt, and with your arms behind your head, the task of keeping your head off the bench was herculean.

**[Resist the pain]**

**[[Give up]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7905238/chapters/18067957) **

_Oh God, oh my gods, Saint Nicholas!!!_ Not like this! You nodded your head as eagerly as you could in your current situation, attempting to form words despite the gag and your gravely scalded tongue.

“Yesh! Shtrade! Puhleashe!”

You were crying unknowingly, despair kicking in in what you believed to be your last moments. You kept wide, pleading eyes on him as he chuckled darkly, his hips gaining momentum as he pushed himself further and further within you. Bile rose in your sensitive throat as you began slipping on the bench with each of his powerful thrusts. _NO –nonononononono!_

But then he was coming hard, growling and grunting noisily, speed faltering as he came down his high and filled your cunt with more of his seed. When finally his head reached for the switch of the bench, the silence was deafening under Strade’s and your own heavy breathing. Your eyes were two lifeless pools of tears. You shook in your bindings, still lifted up the bench as you felt life again coursing through you: blood beating madly at your eardrums, pain in your limbs, in your throat, in your mouth –everywhere.

“Bahaha! That looks suits you just fine! See how much fun we can have if you just cooperate?”

He braced you off the bench, unhooking your cuffed wrists. You simply fell limp in his arms, finding no force in your legs or to recoil from his sickly embrace.

“Let’s just wash you off before we eat, shall we?”

Never had a shower felt so soothing, and never had you allowed him to clean you in the sort. You barely registered seating at the table with him and Ren, even less so the bloody steak dropping to your plate. Ren would glance at you sideways in a remorseful manner as you ate the tender meat despite the discomfort in your throat. Nothing would ever hurt the same again.


	4. Your Freedom: A Real Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what occurs if you chose to give in to your body's exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEAVY WARNING: gratuitous gore, blood, cannibalism, some kind of necrophilia (if you want to see it that way), character death.

_No –no more. No more!_

It hurt. Everything hurt so much. This life hurt so much. No more.

It was only with gritted teeth on the gag and stiff features that you allowed yourself to relax. Your head fell backwards immediately as all tension left your neck. You made your head as heavy as you could –no use playing difficult anymore. The job had to be done quickly and as painlessly as possible.

As soon as the back of your head made contact with the saw, its honed teeth dug in the skin and ripped the flesh off, splitting your skull wide. Blood splattered everywhere, gurgling up your mouth and down your nose as your neck broke under the sheer force of the spinning blade. The bony husk of your brain finally gave way as the saw settled within your head, your skull spewing forth its contents in many shredded pieces of rosy meat. It didn’t hurt anymore –the blade spun aimlessly as the split sides of your mangled face lay bloody and crushed on either side.

Strade hadn’t been able to help himself. The view of your contorted features belching copious amounts of blood and desiccated flesh had brought him deeper in euphoria than anything ever had before. His face was sprayed with blood –yours. His hand finally turned off the saw. Silence.

“…Hey. Hey. Don’t pass out.”

He wanted to laugh at how derisive his words were, and yet he found himself shaking your shoulders desperately. The only result was the fall of your body to the ground, legs sprawled wide as the remnants of your head hung unnaturally on your back. He blinked. He had finally found a new pet, but he had again gotten too excited. He kicked your feet a couple times –at least the meat would last for a while.

With a certain deception, he gathered his cutting knives. The only sound coming out of the basement for hours was the squelching noise of blades ripping your lifeless flesh.

Still, while he contemplated your neatly packed remnants, he found himself relieved that the blade had not been inches down, where it would have severed your collar.

He might have had to kill you himself, then.


	5. Your Downfall: Too Prideful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what occurs if you refuse to give him the reins later on, and keep riding him.

There was no way you would sacrifice your only respite. You denied him, shaking your head gently as you pushed a palm to his sternum, shifting your weight forward to continue riding him. Your legs burned badly and yet, with certain disgust, you found yourself reveling in the way his face flushed and his teeth gritted under the leash of pleasure –pleasure you were giving him. It was the closest to domination you had gotten with him, and the feeling was rejuvenating, your mind momentarily wandering from the painful, traumatic memories the same man had inflicted upon you.

“Oh-ho! Bold today, are we?”

Your only answer was to spread your legs further apart, pushing your knees outward to obtain more leverage. That position allowed you to fall upon him with more force, his shaft jabbing your deepest parts delectably. How long had it been since you had had actual, normal sex? Your orgasm was building up fast, and you surprised yourself by growing braver and braver: you lurched forward, dropping to your knees as you continued to mount him relentlessly. He was already groaning when your fingers tangled in his brown, wavy locks and tugged harshly, exposing the inviting bump of his Adam’s apple. His own hand reacted by pulling on your chain, albeit weakly –it seemed he also enjoyed pain inflicted on him.

Guttural growls were bubbling in his throat now, his lidded eyes smoldering you as you locked gazes. The temptation was too grand as your cunt began to clench abruptly around his pulsating cock: you dove to his throat, mouthing that sensual part of him. On the spur of the moment, hear beating fast from the adrenaline and the arousing sounds Strade emitted, you move your mouth further to the side, tongue swiping against his salty skin. But it was only when your felt your peak near that you went all out, biting his neck hard and deep until you drew blood, all the while riding his cock like your life depended on it, ass slapping against his loaded testicles.

The man beneath you grunted huskily as he flinched, eyes snapping wide and jaw tight as his own orgasm crashed over him faster than a derailing train. You sucked the bite raw until the skin turned purple, milking him as both of your highs receded.

You felt so satisfied –and yet the look on Strade’s face had your stomach drop. Dark, animalistic, hungry. That one grin where his brow would fall heavy on his amber eyes, his smile lopsided in a manner you would have normally found quite enticing had it not been on his face in this particular situation.

“You still have some spunk, huh buddy? Nice to see you can endure so much more…”

You faltered, dropping on your bare ass as he got up. Your feet pedalled aimlessly on the wooden floor as you attempted to back away. His back curled like a feline preparing to pounce, his arms hovering on his side, parallel to the floor as he approached you.

You had gone too far –surely something you would regret.

Seconds later you were flat on the floor, his erect cock violating your unprepared rear entrance. And the night consisted of your gagged mouth, his knife lacerating your skin as he challenged himself to stretch you wider and wider, forcing bigger and bigger object deep into you until you were screaming murder.

You wouldn’t walk for days, maybe even more so than when your foot injury had been fresh.


	6. Your Silence: A Friend's Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what occurs if you choose not to answer when Strade asks you if you want to switch position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: rape, forced intercourse. Also, maybe I should mention underage..? Not that I want to see it that way, I mean -there's a threesome with Ren and, while he looks young, I really want to believe he is not that much of a child. Isn't he some kind of kitsune? They gotta live long, being mythic creatures and all. 
> 
> In any case, I did not write this fic with his age under the legal one in mind. 
> 
> Other than that, this chapter is quite soft in certain aspects compared to others, as it does not contain graphic torture, as unbelievable as it might seem.

You willed yourself to remain silent, unable to decide if agreeing or disagreeing would be the better option. If you said yes, would he think you too bold and punish you? If, on the opposite, you said no, would he take it as a refusal to keep his so kindly offered control? In doubt, you opted to say nothing –but it was still not the good answer.

“Cat caught your tongue?” he smiled wider –a reaction that always announced some ill omen, “That makes me think…” he pushed you off his laugh, steering towards the door, “Maybe a friend wouldn’t hurt you”, he grinned sheepishly as he closed the door behind him.

It reopened shortly after, just as your mind finished processing his words, and you discovered you had been right in your suspicions. Strade was pushing a cowering Ren into the room. He averted his eyes as soon as he spotted your naked form, blushing profusely at the sight. This was a first for either of you, and so your breath caught in your throat at Strade’s obvious intents. Ren’s ears folded downwards as he toyed anxiously with his hands while the man behind him kept coaxing him closer to you.

“Hey, what’s will all the sudden awkwardness? We’re all friends here, just getting to know each other better… BAHahah!” his laughter boomed as he pushed Ren to the floor.

He fell on all fours, head bowed to evade the sight of your vulnerable state, tail curling around his knees. His glasses were sliding off the bridge of his nose. The little critter shriek when Strade forced him towards you with the heel of his boot on his back.

“Not confident enough, huh Ren? Never had a girl before in your life, have you?” he squatted beside him, cradling the fragile hand of the wolfish boy as he leveled with the both of you, “It ain’t rocket science. Just touch the right places… Girls are fleshy in so many delectable ways…” only his upper teeth became visible over his thin lips, eyes boring into you.

“Just let me show you.”

Faster than you could process, Strade was behind you, legs pinned on either of yours as his arm wound tightly around your neck. Your breathing became labored as his upper arm pressed down on your trachea, and you could only look to Ren with watered eyes.

“Now look over here…” Ren obeyed hesitantly, fear forcing him to obey as embarrassment and concern slowed him, “This is just one of their sensitive spots”, his free hand grabbed a handful of your breast, rolling it alluringly in his hand. Ren’s complexion was nearing the hue of his orange hair, “If you just pull the right amount –just hard enough…” His fingers pinched your peaking nipple, pulling it harshly, and you writhed against him, “… They already react like that.”

You could feel his hot breath and smirk at your ear as he continued speaking.

“Now… The most sensitive spot by far is right over here…” his fingers dipped between your legs, spreading your outer lips to expose the depths of your womanhood. Ren’s eyes widened at that, his body unable to wrench itself from the view of your offered sex. Even so, you could hardly blame him; even less so resent the kind little guy.

“T-That… That’s…” he stuttered without being able to provide a full sentence.

“That’s right. That’s just where you sheathe yourself inside her. Nothing more complicated.”

Even with his poorly woven explanation, his fingers did not relinquish their hold on your sex, keeping you wide open.

“Don’t you just want to try it out..?” his voice went low and dark, his inquiry more of a command than a question.

You would never wish harm to fall purposefully on Ren, and so you could not even hope for him to deny Strade’s request. Despite that, you struggled in the man’s grip, partly because of the lack of air in your lungs.

“Now, now, kitten –don’t you think that’s rude of you? Fighting like that… I’d think you were repulsed by Ren, is that it?”

The bastard. He knew perfectly that you had a soft spot for the little fox. You shook your head feverishly, spewing denial sounds as best you could with the little air you had. You knew this would happen whether or not both parties wanted it –sending Ren into a guilt trip was the last thing you desired for him. You looked to him with pleading eyes, hoping he would get the message. You even intentionally spread your legs wider, pushing against Strade’s. The said individual chuckled in your hear as he noticed your antics.

“Wow, Ren! Isn’t that good for you? She’s all ready and willing to take you in… And she’s already so wet...” his fingers dug between your two sets of labia, dragging your shamefully glistening juices over your cunt, “You won’t let the occasion pass up, will you?”

The poor thing was shaking, his top balled in his fists as he forced it down between his legs to hide his hardening shaft. Although inexperienced with women, he was no stranger to such thing, as one would expect after behind held captive by a man like Strade. It was easy to guess just what kind of look he sent Ren, as the latter flinched and scooted closer between your legs. Strade hummed appreciatively while he watched Ren fumbling awkwardly with the knot of his shorts. The piece of clothing eventually fell to the floor, revealing the young fox’s leaking sex.

Strade’s hold on your neck somewhat faltered, and you breathed in relief both from the fresh air and the sight of Ren’s cock, as weird as it sounded to you. Strade’s manhood was so thick and long that you were more than happy to notice that the boy’s was more of an average size, if not slightly shorter.

“That’s it, just a bit closer, Ren, and don’t hesitate.”

His words were made heavier at the sudden flick of a blade under your chin. Ren’s eyes widened further, if even possible. He closed the distance between the two of you, exchanging a slight glance with you that summed up a thousand words: _I’m so sorry._ Then he was pushing into you, your lips welcoming him easily as his girth parted you. The motion was so gentle, so foreign that you surprised yourself shuddering in pleasure from it. Your eyes rested on the boy penetrating you, on his ears pulled back, his teeth gritted and his features tensed. You couldn’t deny the coiling and powerful tug in your lower belly at the sight of his enraptured face. Even Strade seemed to be getting excited, if the hard shaft pressing in your backside was anything to go by. His both hands gripped the side of your saddlebags, pressing you further onto Ren’s cock as he moved beneath you.

“Now all you have to do is pull in and out...” his voice was strained and coarse, hips grinding onto your bottom with more insistence as he continued to motion you back and forward in tandem with the young boy’s motions.

It was obvious that he wouldn’t last long: your walls were hugging him so tightly, so blissfully and were so warm that he wasn’t even sure to be able to resist the urge to come inside you. Uncomfortable fumbling went on beneath your asscheeks as you felt the bulk of Strade’s shaft against you. He leaned back against the wall behind you, waist sliding further under yours. You realised just what he intended to do as the tip of his cock pocked at the junction where you and Ren met. That – _oh God_.

One hand guided his cock to your entrance, and then he was pushing in in time with Ren, who could barely register what was unfolding before him so much he was thrown into bliss. In spite of all you believed, the bulk of their two cocks settled inside you, their width splitting you apart like anything you had felt before. Their rhythm synchronised and moans slipped from your mouth unwillingly, reveling how full you felt each time they both hilted inside you.

The feeling was short-lived however as Ren came minutes later, emptying himself within you as he coated both your walls and Strade’s dick in the process. The latter suddenly flipped you over as he re-entered you from behind, pushing your face into Ren’s crotch.

“Where are your manners? Clean what you dirty.”

You were remainder of your position as the tip of his knife nicked your jaw, and so you lifted yourself on your elbows, mouth engulfing his spent length. Ren hissed and moaned from the overload clogging his senses; your mouth on his shaft dabbed in your juices, the scent of your arousal, your bouncing body as Strade fucked you feverishly. He didn’t even realise he was coming a second time before he saw your mouth dripping with more of his semen.

“Ah- I-”,

 you knew he went to apologise before his gaze locked with Strade’s.

And then he curled in on himself, letting the man fuck you senseless until he came within you. 

You evened out your breathing as you got to your knees,doing your best to ignore the fluids trickling between your thighs. You gave Ren what you hoped was a reassuring smile -one that faded to a thin line as you noticed Strade coming back to you with a generous amount of rope.

He smiled down at the both of you as he showed off his new acquisition, flicking the knife along it.

“That’s certainly something I could get used to… But I think we should concentrate on… _Bonding_ a little further”, he wrung the rope around your wrists as he emphasized the word, and he laughed that signature laugh, not halting his ministrations in the least.

Your only comfort remained in the fact that you would not be alone in this, this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you found some kind of enjoyment in there! Thank you so much for reading and putting up with this, as well as for kudos and comments!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, especially trying out the different scenes, so I hope you did as well. Maybe this'll set the road for more ambitious CYOA in the future!
> 
> Also, just because I really liked the game and hope to see more of the same kind in the future, I will shamelessly advertise the page as well as the patreon of the developers. Please support them or try the game if you would like:
> 
> Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/afterdark  
> Website/Download: http://www.boyfriendtodeath.com/index.html


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